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   >> I Was An Artiste
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Persilot
(acolyte)
10/09/06 06:54 PM
Re: Didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poe new [re: Persilot]  

Love came slowly, made me blind,
It grew within my darkened mind,
Till of her dreamt I all the time.
A fateful chance a deadly sign.

I played an empty lonely game,
Of stolen glances, secret pain
Till on that day my heart was shamed,
And tears fell from my eyes like rain.

She'll never know how long I dreamt,
Her skin, her hair, her lips, her scent
But now my hope is gone and spent,
These words shall be my sad lament.

"Well I'm a common working man, with a half of bitter, bread and jam and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man... when the copper fades away."

Froggy Starlust
(acolyte)
10/09/06 07:11 PM
Re: Didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poe new [re: Persilot]  

Now we got a number one:

She burnt me like a candle,
And I can't take this pain,
This scolding writhing agony,
This empty souless shame.

I just wanna feel
Real love feel the home that I live in
Cos I got too much life
Running through my veins
Going to waste

Now I'm burned and ruined,
Consumed by hungry flame,
My heart is turned to ashes,
My life is not the same.

I just wanna feel
Real love feel the home that I live in
Cos I got too much life
Running through my veins
Going to waste

I know I cannot fight this fire,
That never was my aim,
But I'd rather burn forever,
Then never hear her name.

I just wanna feel
Real love feel the home that I live in
Cos I got too much life
Running through my veins
Going to waste


Sex between a man and a woman can be absolutely wonderful, provided you get between the right man and the right woman.

Persilot
(acolyte)
10/11/06 06:18 PM
Unrequited love new [re: Persilot]  

Oh why won't you love me?
Just why can't you see?
I know I'm not perfect,
But please set me free.

If only you'd love me,
I'd give you the key,
To my oldest of secrets,
My darkest of dreams.

If only you'd see me,
I'd stare deep in your eyes,
I could fall in your beauty,
For miles upon miles.

So I'd love you to tell me,
Won't you make up your mind?
Won't you say if you love me?
Won't you give me a sign?

"Well I'm a common working man, with a half of bitter, bread and jam and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man... when the copper fades away."

Froggy Starlust
(acolyte)
10/11/06 06:26 PM
Re: Unrequited love new [re: Persilot]  

But most importantly, does she have big tits?

Salad Insane V2

Persilot
(acolyte)
10/15/06 03:12 PM
Sunday new [re: Persilot]  

Sunday (The completely non-Bowie related version)

Sunday.
Is like waiting at a bus stop,
In a cheap blue raincoat,
Wanting to be somewhere else.

Sunday.
Is like an empty pint glass,
When you stare through the gloopy remnant,
And realise that it's finished.

Sunday
Is constant cups of tea,
Ink stained fingers
And tired eyes.

Sunday,
Is worrying about tomorrow,
Not living for today,
And wishing for something different.

"Well I'm a common working man, with a half of bitter, bread and jam and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man... when the copper fades away."

diamondogz74
(freecloud)
10/15/06 03:36 PM
Re: Sunday [re: Persilot]  

Rather nice, thanks Persilot.

Do you like this one by...



Poetry of Wallace Stevens

Sunday Morning

I

Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound,
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.

II

Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measures destined for her soul.

III

Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.

IV

She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophesy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.

V

She says, "But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss."
Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams
And our desires. Although she strews the leaves
Of sure obliteration on our paths,
The path sick sorrow took, the many paths
Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love
Whispered a little out of tenderness,
She makes the willow shiver in the sun
For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze
Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.
She causes boys to pile new plums and pears
On disregarded plate. The maidens taste
And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.

VI

Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set the pear upon those river banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.

VII

Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feet shall manifest.

VIII

She hears, upon that water without sound,
A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine
Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay."
We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.




London Bye Ta-Ta...

Persilot
(acolyte)
10/18/06 04:18 PM
Empty shores [re: diamondogz74]  

I heard the lonely crash of bitter waves,
On empty moonlit shores,
They ground the cruelly jagged rocks,
And mourned the passage of the days.

I saw the empty rotten timbers,
Rising riblike from the wistful dunes,
Defiant to the shattered end,
A slimey wreck, a pale moon.

I smelt the tears of love forgotten,
The salty brine of sorrow,
I wept for all the times now lost,
A longing empty helplessness.

I turned away from darkened shore,
The echo of the ghostly wind,
Yet still it haunts me in my dreams,
That shadowed coast of bleak despair.

"Well I'm a common working man, with a half of bitter, bread and jam and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man... when the copper fades away."

Atonalexpress
(acolyte)
10/19/06 02:35 AM
In The Void [re: Persilot]  

I liked that one.

It's mostly all in the void,
everything that you are,
everything that you say,
everything that you think.

It's mostly all been told,
everything that you believe,
everything that you heard,
everything that you considered.

You donít know who you are,
therefore, you canít tell someone
what to believe,
what to think, or
what to say.

You donít know where youíve been,
therefore, you canít give directions on,
how to save oneís soul,
how to live oneís life, or
how to communicate oneís mistakes.

Be nothing in the void.

©2006 JAC


MySpace


Persilot
(acolyte)
10/22/06 03:37 PM
Re: Didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poe [re: Persilot]  

"I feel the bleak despair of empty hours,
The ticking of this broken clock,
Will someone please come restart my heart,
And save me from this blackened rot?"

"You're the one who makes me live,
For you I'll rise above it all,
Only you can understand,
The secret workings of my heart."

"I sink into the murky mire,
Without your love I'm doomed,
I'll not forget your joy filled eyes,
Farewell my love that never was."


"Well I'm a common working man, with a half of bitter, bread and jam and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man... when the copper fades away."

JarethsGirl
(stardust savant)
10/23/06 08:34 AM
Re: Empty shores [re: Persilot]  

This one sucked so bad I had to put a hidden Bowie lyric in it. It's probably the only part I like, too.

I am waiting in a sea of black
Dip your toe in,
watch the shadows attack

Let your feet anchor into the sand,
let it engulf,
as you reach out your hand

Find my cool fingertips through the dark
Don't be afraid,
though the water is stark

Swim out to me in the rippling waves,
though the undertoe
may provide us our graves

Hold my hand as we drift out to sea
In pendulous uncertainty,
get lost with me

The whispers of warning on the misty air,
will pull and pry
and try to dispair

When the sea does churn and night sky flash
with lightning bolts
and thunder crash -

I will not let go nor swim to shore,
for I love you
forevermore

"Why didn't you post yesterday?" -- to_dizzy


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